


Red Like the Blood of My Enemies

by TheHoodedAssassin



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, House Bolton, Pre-Canon, Ramsay Bolton Dies, The Dreadfort (ASoIaF), War of the Five Kings, Winterfell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHoodedAssassin/pseuds/TheHoodedAssassin
Summary: This story is about the daughter of Roose Bolton, and how she impacts the Game of Thrones.She acts like a lady, but she is a Bolton, just like her father.(The OC is almost as crazy as Ramsey Bolton, just with a little more restraint)Rated T for now.
Relationships: Domeric Bolton/Sansa Stark, Robb Stark/Original Female Character(s), Roose Bolton & Original Character(s), Talisa Maegyr/Robb Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, my first ever game of Thrones fanfic.
> 
> I used a few characters from the books, but the funny thing is that I've never actually read the books, so...
> 
> Anyway, there are two OCs in this fic.
> 
> And a few characters are a bit different from the show.
> 
> I decided to publish one chapter and see what people think. I already have 6 chapters written out, so whatever people say, I'll still write this story.
> 
> If you don't like it, don't read it, I really don't need your negativity. And I really don't care about your negative response. I write stories as a hobby, so I write them for my own entertainment.
> 
> (Meaning, there are probably a few mistakes which I was too lazy to correct)

A girl sat by the river on a rock with a cloth in her hands. Her black long hair blown onto her face, her grey and green eyes looking at the peaceful flow of the water. Everything would be fine with the scene, if not for the blood on the white cloth.

She turned her head away from the river and looked at the boy sitting in front of her. Her eyes met his. The same green and grey, cold gaze.

"I warned you. Didn't I?"

The boy didn't move. He couldn't move. His throat hurt from screaming and his eyes were red from tears. But he kept looking at the girl. She looked at her hands for a second to check that they were clean, before looking back at the boy. She threw the cloth away and stood up.

At that moment the boy tried to crawl away. But it was hard crawling with both of his knees and elbows broken. He kept looking at her once in a while as she took slow steps towards him with a slight smirk on her face.

Until she got close enough and stepped on one of his knees, further damaging it. He cried out in pain and continued his attempt at escaping. The girl's smile was gone and replaced with a frown.

"What? You don't wanna play anymore?"

She took out a small dagger as he shook his head.

"Please.. You.. You don't have to do this!"

He tried to stop the dagger from hitting his face as she slashed his chest. It wasn't deep enough to kill him, but deep enough to hurt.

"I see you don't like losing…"

She grabbed his hair with her left hand and made him face up.

"Well… You see…someone has to lose. Because there can only be one winner."

The bloodied boy winced as she pressed her dragger into his shoulder. She pulled it away before jamming it in fully into his broken elbow.

"You started this game Ramsey. And I won it."

He trashed around like a dying fish in last hopes of escape.

But there was no escape.

Not after what he did.

She lifted the dagger and in one swift move, she slit the boy's throat.

The boy fell limply to the ground. Dead.

She straightened out her dark grey skirt and wiped the blood on the dagger with the cloth she left earlier. Turning around she saw a man standing by a nearby tree.

"They'll call you a kinslayer."

The man walked up to her and took the cloth from her hand.

"Not unless they find out."

He smirked and wiped some blood off her cheek with his thumb.

She had a blank face but her eyes sparkled with joy. She held her head up knowing that the body would be taken care of. The man would throw the body into the river limb by limb, and let the flow of the river take him away.

The man pulled his hand away from her face and reached for her cloak. He gave her the cloak which she tied over her shoulders. She hid her dagger underneath the black material and covered the blood stains on her dress.

He took out his sword and rolled up his sleeves.

"Run along lady Bolton. Your father awaits you."

She turned away and started walking along the river. She already had her father's permission to do this. And she wasn't afraid of what people would say about her killing some bastard boy.

After all a bastard is no true son of a Lord.


	2. Chapter 2

Domeric Bolton (portrayed by Luke Evans), Elynore Bolton (portrayed by Emma Dumont), Margaret Bolton(portrayed by Willa Holland)  
This chapter will contain interaction between Elyn (the main OC of this story) and her family. After this, the story will be more or less within the tv series timeline.  
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(Elynore p.o.v)

It’s been a fortnight. A fortnight since I got rid of Ramsey. 

I remember the day as it was yesterday. I walked into my room with blood all over my dress and a dagger hidden under my cloak. Dealing with Ramsey proved to be harder than I initially thought, and if it wasn’t for what he’d done, I might not have been able to kill him.

But the bastard sealed his fate when he tried to poison Domeric. Without Domeric, their father would have no heir, and the best option would have been their bastard brother. So Ramsey thought it was a good idea to get rid of Domeric and take his place. 

Some blame lay on Domeric for disregarding their father’s wishes and seeking out Ramsey in the first place. Domeric always wanted a brother, instead of two sisters, and he naively thought that Ramsey would also be happy. So the fool decided to meet their bastard brother.

But who would have known that Ramsey was such an animal? I knew there was something wrong with him. He was greedy and sadistic, but those seemed to be usual traits for Boltons. That must have been the reason why their father let the bastard live in the first place.

The only thing that saved Domeric from drinking poison, was me. From the first time I saw Ramsey, I saw the greed in his eyes. Greed and madness, like an untamed hound. So when my brother sought out Ramsey once again, I followed them to the tavern.

When Ramsey poured some liquid into Domeric’s cup, I wasted no time before getting up and running up to him. When Domeric returned he saw his cup of wine on the ground and a dagger at Ramsey’s throat. I wanted to slice his throat there and then, but I knew that I had to bring him to father.

A few days after that I ended up chasing Ramsey by the river with a crossbow.

Domeric spent most of his days locked in his room since then, playing the same sad melody on his harp. He would only talk to our mother and our sister Margaret.

Father had been furious when he found out about Ramsey, and he wanted him flayed. But I convinced him to let me deal with him. It took some time, but he gave in. The only condition being that Locke would deliver the killing blow.

And now a fortnight later, still no one knew that I killed Ramsey myself. Of course mother and Margaret didn’t even know that I had something to do with it. The two of them were better off not knowing what happened with Ramsey.

The past weeks did me some good. I was no longer ignored by my father. He has paid no mind to me since my birth. Margaret who was two years older, was no Bolton, she had neither the looks nor the cruelty. As the second daughter, father expected me to be just like her and my mother.

I had the same milky grey eyes that terrified everyone who dared look into my eyes, and black hair, just like father and Domeric. Instead of growing up to be like my sister, I grew up to be cold and ruthless like my father. Because of my behaviour as a child, my mother preferred not spending much time with me. She thought I should sing, play an instrument, and dance, but I spent all my time shooting rabbits with a crossbow, and sneaking around the dungeons.

Now as I sat in my room with a needle and some thread in my hands, I had to listen to the septa praise Margaret’s embroidery. The septa was always full of warm words for my sister, while always spitting venom in my direction. 

According to her I had very little prospect for marriage. I had neither the looks, nor the manners. Margaret had brown hair with slight curls, bright green eyes and a lovely voice. I inherited my father’s looks, and all that could be said is “plain looking, but pretty enough for a Bolton”. I was short for my age, and too slim.

Ever since Ramsey was taken care of, people began whispering all around Dreadfort that I was even more bloodthirsty than my father. But those people lost their tongues. I hated gossip. People preferred lies over the truth. Fortunately her father shared her opinions on gossip and had very little tolerance for meaningless chatter.

Knowing that, I was fairly sure that the Septa would soon be gone. She liked running her mouth, and the things she said weren’t always the kindest. I earned father’s favor when I stopped Ramsey, and if I said even one word, he would happily rid me of her. The only reason he allowed a Septa in the first place was the fact that Sansa Stark had one.

I looked down at my hands and then back up at the Septa. I was feeling very spiteful today, and I was tired of being told what to do by a woman who doesn’t know what it meant to be a Bolton.

“Who do you think I’ll marry?”

The Septa turned to me a bit confused. I was never the one to ask such questions.

“Why do you ask?”

I shrugged.

“Well, I won’t marry a Stark, because Margaret will marry Robb Stark, I can’t marry a Manderly because Domeric will marry Wynafryd Manderly. So who do you think I’ll marry?”

This time Margaret decided to look up.

“Dear sister, with your looks you might marry a Frey, if you’re lucky.”

I turned to face her. I wanted to slap her, but I controlled myself. Something I learned from father, restraint was important. So instead I smiled.

“Perhaps. Do you know why you are to marry Robb Stark? because of your looks? No. Father gave you to the Starks because they are the Wardens of the North, and an alliance with them gives us more power. You were sold off to the Starks just like our mother was sold off to the Boltons.”

Margaret giggled and shook her head.

“You are silly. Not everything is about power. I will marry Robb Stark, because I am the second most beautiful girl in the North, the first one being Sansa Stark.”

My smile was gone and replaced with a smirk.

“Yet I could swear that the whore Locke was sitting with yesterday at the tavern looked prettier than you. She had blonde hair, which is quite rare for Northerners.”

At that Margaret stood up.

“How dare you compare me to a whore?!”

I smiled. I got exactly what I wanted.

Margaret didn’t seem to appreciate the smile on my face.

“I’m telling mother!”

The Septa stood up and put a hand on Margaret’s shoulder. My sister was already crying, and tears were sliding down her cheeks.

She took one more look at me and ran away.

The Septa wanted to follow her but before she could leave I stopped her.

“No. You stay here where you are.”

She looked confused.

“You made your sister cry just to speak alone with me? You could have simply asked! Ladies don’t act in such animalistic ways!”

“Perhaps ladies don’t… But this is Dreadfort. This is no place for ladies, and the only reason my sister and mother are still alive, is because my father protects them. I would be dead too, if I didn’t learn what it means to be a Bolton.”

The Septa looked angry.

“Don’t speak of things you don’t understand.”

I smiled, while my eyes kept looking full of rage. And I could already see that the old woman found no pleasure in looking at my eyes.

“Thanks to you, my sister is oblivious to the dangers of the world. She believes that a knight will come and save her, she will marry a handsome man, they will love each other and have many kids. And perhaps they will love each other. But if they don’t, then her husband will rape her over and over untill she gives him a son. She will live in misery. And she will hate you, because you didn’t prepare her for the real world.”

The Septa flinched slightly and brought her gaze away from my eyes.

“Elynore… you..”

My smile was gone. But inside I was happy. I cared very little for what would happen to my sister. I knew that she would do her duty. And Margaret probably knew that too. But my goal was to get rid of the Septa.

“I think I am no longer in need of a Septa. If you’re not gone by tomorrow morning, you will be forced to leave.”

The Septa looked shocked but she quickly regained her posture and nodded before running out without sparing even a single look behind.

My mother won’t be happy… but her opinion doesn’t matter. She neglected me my whole life, and let the Septa throw around insults. Margaret learned from her, and thought herself superior for simply being older and better looking.

But she would also be gone very soon. Her wedding was set to be in a month at Winterfell. The same time the King would be at Winterfell with the whole royal family.

The prince was rumored to be a cunt. There were rumors that he liked cutting up helpless animals. I’m sure that he would have gotten along with Ramsey. Two mad dogs, ripping apart innocent animals just for the sight of blood.

Personally I wasn’t bothered by blood or death. The things she saw in the dungeons were far worse than what was in the history books. Flaying was outlawed in the North, so that punishment was kept strictly for the worst criminals of Dreadfort. I find pleasure in hurting those that hurt my family. If they make fun of my father and call him the Leech Lord, they might wake up without a tongue. Or as I prefer doing it, with their lips sewn together with a black thread. It made everything less messy and quicker. But much more painful.

When I walked to my father’s solar, I realized that my whole family was there. Normally I would feel a tinge of fear, but I learned to mask all emotions behind indifference. I knew that after what I did, Margaret would go to our parents, and I would probably be in trouble.

The door was opened, which meant they were waiting for me. So I walked in.

All eyes immediately went to me.

I looked around. Domeric was confused and was giving me the ‘what did you do this time?’ look, mother was angry, Margaret was crying, and there was only father, who’s emotions I couldn’t understand.

I stopped right in front of his desk and put my hand behind my back, and waited for someone to say something.

It was my father that spoke first.

“Elyn.”

“Yes father?”

He stared right at me, as though trying to see if I would cower.

“Your sister tells me you compared her to a whore?”

I looked confused, as though not understanding what was happening.

“Why would I do that? I would never say such a thing to my sister. I simply stated that I saw a woman not long ago with beautiful blonde hair that can almost surpass her brown curls.”

My father nodded.

That’s when Margaret shot up from her seat.

“You liar! You always lie! You compared me to whore because you know that you’ll never be as beautiful as I am! You’ll spend your miserable life with a Frey or some low born!”

That was enough. I would not let her walk all over me like she always does.

I took a quick step in her direction and we stood face to face. She was taller, and older. But I was smarter. And that is why I would always win. 

“Careful now with what you say. We wouldn’t want people to think you’re ill mannered. Especially before your wedding.” 

Margaret was never the one to fight, but it seemed that I angered her more than usual, because what she did next truly surprised me.

She slapped me. 

It took me a lot of self-control not to slap her back, but I knew that if I slapped her back there would be trouble.

Instead I smiled.

“That wasn’t very kind of you.”

Margaret huffed and raised her hand to slap me again.

This time I caught her hand.

With the side of my eye, I could see my mother’s jaw drop and the look of pure shock on her face. Domeric was sitting in his chair, but by his posture I could tell that he was ready to get up at any moment. Father leaned back in his chair, and looked pointedly at me, waiting for my next move.

I could twist her hand, perhaps break a few fingers. I could slap her back and initiate a fight. But I was taught to show restraint and act smart. I had to use my head instead of my emotions.

I tightened my grip on her hand making Margaret wince. She looked at me pleadingly while trying to move her hand away.

Then I let her go.

She grabbed her own wrist that was now red. My finger marks were visible on her pale skin, and they would probably bruise.

“The next time you raise your hand, I might not be as merciful.”

I turned away from Margaret and walked to an empty chair. When I sat down I looked up at my father.

As my mother hugged Margaret and inspected her hand I could hear her say how much she hated me and how happy she was to finally be leaving this place. I personally never got any comfort from her. It was probably because I looked up to my father and reminded her too much of him.

I could see that Domeric was simply looking away, trying to find something to look at in the window. He was tired of Margaret and I fighting. He was the only one who didn’t take sides in our arguments, even if him and I were closer than he was with Margaret. The reason for our closeness was me not acting like a lady. As a kid I would play with boys and run in the dirt, so Domeric treated me like a little brother.

My father stood up making everyone silence themselves and turn to face him.

He turned to Margaret.

“You need to be on your best behavior. Or I’ll marry you to Frey.”

Margaret dropped her gaze as he continued.

“We all depart for Winterfell in three days. We will arrive a fortnight before the wedding as Lord Stark has asked.”

Margaret nodded but kept her head down.

Father turned to my mother.

“Make sure she has everything she needs. Lady Stark is from the south, she’ll be picky.”

My mother nodded. In moments like this I could see how much Maragret resembled our mother. They had the same hair, eyes, and face, they acted and talked in the same manner. They were soft-spoken and graceful. The only difference was that my mother always looked sad and tired, life at the Dreadfort hadn’t been kind to her.

I snapped out of my thoughts when father spoke again.

“You will ride beside Domeric on the way there.”

I nodded and turned to look at Domeric. He seemed confused by our father’s demand, but he stopped questioning his decisions ever since the accident with Ramsey.

Later as I was leaving father’s solar, I noticed that my mother stayed behind. She was clearly unhappy about something, because it was rare that she stayed in his presence longer than required.

I wished Domeric a good night and then walked back to my father’s solar.

Both of my parents hated when I listened in during their conversations, but my curiosity got the better of me. I pressed my ear to the cold wood of the door.

“Elyn should ride in the wheelhouse with Margaret and I. A fortnight, travelling on a horse is not proper for a lady.”

“Have you ever known her to act as a lady?”

“No. But she has to learn. She has to learn before we get to Winterfell. She’ll scare off the Starks with her actions.”

“That is exactly why she will ride beside me. She has a role to play, and I'm sure that she’ll do what she has to.”

Her mother huffed.

“You put too much trust into her abilities to follow your orders. She’s not like Margaret. She’s wild and unpredictable.”

“That’s what makes her different from you and her sister. She actually follows my orders. She’s smart. Too smart. But I can make good use of that.”

When my mother didn’t reply, I knew it was time to get out of there. So I picked up my skirt and soundlessly made my way to my room.

Now I understood why I wasn’t betrothed to some low lord. My father was waiting for the opportune moment to use me in one of his plans. It made me somewhat excited. At least he didn’t take me for a fool and I had a purpose. But on the other hand, I knew not of my own fate. If my father was planning something then it would be grand, and it would probably end in blood. 

But if I was careful, then I won’t be dead one in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter we will see more of Domeric and Roose Bolton....
> 
> And we'll see how the Starks are faring in Winterfell...


End file.
